life breaks new ground
by katanafleet
Summary: Henry laughed and curled himself into Emma's arms. Emma rolled her eyes in response to the man's triumphant grin. "Fine, in exchange for getting my kid quiet, I'll get you a coffee or something." [so amy (piratesails) gave me "I'm on the bus and my 2-year-old won't stop crying, except you just smiled at them and they did" and i've finally accepted that this is it]


Emma had forgotten the pacifiers. And Henry wouldn't stop crying. And it was getting annoying.

"Henry, kid, we're in public, probably better tone it down. I'm only getting two death glares so far but soon it's gonna be at least six," Emma muttered to her child. Then she almost dropped her coffee, her laptop, and Henry's diaper bag.

Henry, who was by this point practically hanging himself with her left elbow, was not amused by any of these circumstances. He glanced around, Emma watched the wheels in his little brain turn, she watched as he decided that clearly more noise would earn him more sympathy, and he screamed again.

Emma sighed. She attempted to straighten herself up in preparation for the job interview she was about to bomb. Then she straightened her hold on Henry.

The diaper bag, which she had had a weak hold on, was suddenly yet gently pulled from her grasp. "Seriously, if someone's going to steal from the woman with a screaming two-year-old, they usually don't go for the diaper—" she started, turning to the seat beside her.

The man who had taken the bag was still sitting next to her. "Sorry," he said.

Emma finally let her head just hit the back of the seat. Henry stopped his cries, which thankfully were getting weaker, to observe the man. "Why are you holding his diaper bag?" Emma asked, eyes closed. Her grasp on the laptop and the baby grew just a little tighter and Henry squeaked and started up again.

"You appeared flustered and I saw the bag was going to fall. I thought to offer my assistance." The man was a bit too close, probably trying to be heard over Henry's slight sobs. Emma opened her eyes all the way. Holy curse word, the man was hot. And British. _Why?_ Emma wondered to the sky for a moment.

"Well, thanks," Emma said, reaching for the bag. That movement may have squished Henry just a little more, and he started bawling. "Oh, kid," she sighed.

The man looked at Henry. Henry managed to look at him through his tear-swollen eyes. The man lifted one eyebrow. Henry abruptly stopped crying. The man lifted the other eyebrow. Henry gazed in amazement. The man rolled his eyes and lifted that first eyebrow again.

Henry laughed and curled himself into Emma's arms. Emma rolled her eyes in response to the man's triumphant grin. "Fine, in exchange for getting my kid quiet, I'll get you a coffee or something."

"And that's how I met you and your mother."

Henry stared Killian down for a bit. Emma tried not to laugh. They may not have been biologically related, but Killian had pretty much been Henry's father figure since the age of two, so she really wasn't surprised at how alike they truly looked. Same way they folded their hands (Henry over the comforter and Killian in his lap), same stare in their staring contest, nearly the same haircut…

So that last one was her fault, fine.

"Really. You finally got up the courage to talk to my mom because I was being a screaming brat on the bus?" Henry lifted one eyebrow. _Ah, another similarity_ , Emma thought. _So adorable_.

"Quite right. Had watched your lovely mother for a few weeks, trying to get up the courage to speak to her. You'll understand when you meet some lovely lass."

Henry suddenly looked flustered. Killian darted a smirk at Emma in the doorway. _Darn, he has a crush already_ , Emma thought. She mentally begged her husband not to start the interrogation. _Why does he have a crush at eight years old_? she suddenly wondered.

Killian didn't say anything. Emma crossed her arms in satisfaction. "Well, if that's all of your questions, the story is over," Killian finally said. "Good night, lad." He brushed a kiss over Henry's forehead and stood from the bedside.

"Night, Mom," Henry murmured, floating off into dreamland as was happily typical after Emma turned the lights off. "Night, Dad."

Killian joined Emma in the doorway. They watched their son for a moment. "I can't believe he's eight," Killian whispered.

"Me neither," Emma replied, almost as quietly. She rested her head on Killian's shoulder. "I'm glad you managed to get him to shut up all those years ago."

"Well, it was either quiet the child down or let you drop the bag, the laptop, and the coffee all on top of the lad." Killian kissed her briefly and wandered back toward the kitchen.

"I would not have dropped everything on top of him," Emma protested as she closed Henry's room door. "I'm a bit more coordinated than that."

Killian turned around in the hallway and grinned.

Really, she was so glad she had forgotten the pacifiers six years ago.


End file.
